


Today is the day

by orphan_account



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 15:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11061453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Joan Ferguson is an Anatomy and Physiology teacher in this alternate universe.





	1. Chapter 1

Today is the last day of actual school and tomorrow is my graduation ceremony. 

 

It has to be today. 

 

I have spent all school year cultivating this relationship and have been patient in waiting for a prime moment to make a move. Today is my last chance. 

 

I'm sitting in first period, daydreaming about Ms. Joan Ferguson. Yes, she is intimidating and cold and gives more work than the other teachers. Sure, she doesn't really make an effort to get to know the students; but she is thorough in her lessons, giving everyone a chance to learn. In her class, no one speaks out of turn, all assignments are turned in on time, and no one is ever late. She exudes dominance and a no-nonsense attitude that no one has been brave enough to test yet. She takes teaching (especially a honors class) very seriously. 

 

Moving on, I want to think about how tall she is, how confident she is, how she wears those grey streaks with her handsome features so well. Not to mention how beautifully she fills her dress pants, never jeans like the other teachers, she's consistently professional. 

 

I fell in love with her on the first day of school; ever since then I've been visiting her before school to get “help” on homework I pretended to not understand. I would just sit and stare at her mouth as she explained what body parts did what and I never had to worry about her being interrupted because the other students were too intimidated to talk to her outside of class. Once my assignments were explained, I would try to change the subject and get to know her personal life; but it always turned into her picking my brain instead. She would ask about my beliefs and opinions, some of my answers seemed to intrigue her while others seemed so amusing that she would flash her perfect smile at me. 

I lived for those mornings. 

 

Today is the day. 

 

_ Ding... Ding... Ding... _

 

It's second period already. Since I'm a senior I can leave early and go home, a special privilege we get for the last week of school. 

 

Ms. Ferguson doesn't have a class second period. 

 

I take a deep breath, I can't back out now. It's time to try my luck with our very gorgeous and very cold anatomy teacher. 

 

I start the long trek down the hall to her classroom, which is all the way on the other end of the school. 

 

My heart is pounding and I swear every kid I pass can hear it. 

 

Halfway there. 

 

I've suddenly become very self conscious. I'm wearing a black pencil skirt today, which is very unlike me, with a loose, sheer white top. My blond hair is down which reaches past my waist; I normally put it up because it gets annoying but I left it down for today. I also put makeup on, which is an absolute rarity for me. 

 

I have to impress her. 

 

Almost there. 

 

Oh God, I want to turn around but my feet keep moving forward. 

 

I decided on matching lace underwear and bra this morning, just in case this actually goes the way I want it to. If anything, I just need the confidence boost I get from them. 

 

The possible consequences of the actions I'm hoping to initiate are filling my mind. I could get her into so much trouble- 

 

I am at her open door and the smell of formaldehyde tells me that she just finished a dissection. 

 

Damn the consequences (if I'm even so lucky to get that far), today is the day. 

 

Her room is as sterile and spotless as ever, aside from the lab equipment she's cleaning and putting away. Her back is to me and I'm watching her long, white lab coat sway as she works. 

 

I make my presence known as I always do, 

 

“Good morning, Ms. Ferguson." 

 

_ Ding… Ding… Ding…  _

 

The tardy is signaling the start of second period. 

 

She turns to see me walking towards her and greets me, 

 

“Well good morning, Ms. Winters. I didn't expect to see you today, I'm not so cruel as to assign homework so close to the end of the year.” She winks at me and I take over putting away the last of the clean scalpels. 

 

Every piece of equipment has a specific place and I've done this enough times that she doesn't cautiously watch me to make sure I put everything away perfectly. I think she trusts me. At least that much. 

 

Once finished, I turn to see her throwing away her used latex gloves (she never uses the normal white ones like the students do) and sitting down at her desk to use her computer. 

 

I have to say something, don't just stand here, staring like a dope. 

 

“This very well may be the last time I'm able to bug you in the mornings and I didn't want to waste it.”

 

She looks around her computer to give me a half grin (which melts my heart) and goes back to typing. 

 

Come on, Clarice. Today is the day! Do something! Anything! 

 

Deep breath. I stride over to her and lay my hand on top of hers, which is resting on a computer mouse, and the world seems to have stopped. 

 

Maybe not that. 

 

Every idiot in school knows what a germaphobe Ms. Ferguson is. 

 

My blood is so loud in my ears. I have never seen anyone actually touch her before. She has laid a hand on my shoulder briefly, once, but this was something completely different. 

 

I feel her hand twitch beneath mine but she doesn't remove it; instead she looks me dead in the eye. 

 

Her eyes look impossibly dark. She's angry. 

 

I'm panicking. 

 

“Ms. Ferguson, I-”

 

In an instant she's standing and has me backed against the wall. She isn't touching me but her imposing presence eliminates the option of leaving. 

 

She's looking down on me. I'm only 5’3 making her almost a foot taller than me, even without her heels. I shiver slightly because this is the closest I've ever been to her and I think I might pass out. 

 

She leans in close and whispers in my ear, 

 

“Why are you really here,  _ Clarice _ ?”

 

My legs are going weak. She's never said my first name before and I couldn't be more in love with the sound. 

 

My mouth starts working before my brain can and I mutter out, 

 

“I just wanted to see you.” 

 

Wow. So smooth. If I could make my body work, I would slap myself. 

 

She lets out a harsh chuckle towards the ceiling in response, obviously amused at yet another of my lame answers. 

 

“I don't believe you." 

 

She's no longer laughing, her cold stare is once again turned on me and she whispers, 

 

“You were brave enough to touch me but not enough so to tell me why?”

 

She's tracing the collar of my shirt with her finger. 

 

“You must want something much more interesting than to simply  _ ‘see’  _ me.”

 

Goosebumps are engulfing my entire body and my brain won't focus on anything other than her finger stroking my chest. Desperate to give an answer, I start stuttering, 

 

“Well - the thing is- I just- “

 

She lifts her finger to silence me and tugs at the waistband of my skirt, as if inspecting my appearance for the first time. Her face is unreadable. 

 

“You're only supposed to be at school for an hour today, why dress up?” 

 

She grins as if she already knows the answer and my cheeks are burning as I force myself to keep eye contact with her. 

 

“Is this for me?” 

 

I can't handle her gaze anymore and decide to stare at her long legs while I nod in reply. 

 

My entire face is on fire and I've lost the use of my voice. 

 

She's chuckling again but this time it's much softer. 

 

I finally get the courage to look up at her but she's already walking away. 

 

Disappointment fills my chest and I feel like running away in embarrassment. 

 

_ Click.  _

 

She just closed her classroom door and is walking back towards me. 

 

Wait, what? 

 

I become momentarily entranced by the sway of her hips but I quickly try to put my brain back together. 

 

This is what I wanted. Stop being a nervous wreck. Get it together. 

 

Ms. Ferguson stops in front of me. 

 

“Hold your hands above your head and don't move until I say so.”

 

My brain falls right back apart. Back still against the wall, I obediently raise my arms, and can only stare as she crouches in front of me. 

  
_ Today is definitely the day.  _


	2. Chapter 2

I'm caught between wanting to lean down to kiss her and wanting to obey her. 

 

I watch intently as she looks me up and down while carefully removing a fresh pair of gloves from her coat pocket. 

 

She makes a show of putting them on, so agonizingly slow, forever graceful; contentment spreads across her beautiful face. 

 

Looking down at her, mere inches from me, enjoying herself, is making me achingly wet. I try to press my legs together to relieve some of the pressure I'm starting to feel in my center; as soon I start to move, a gloved hand grips my thigh tightly, halting me. 

 

“Now, now Clarice. You have never disobeyed me before, why start now?”

 

There's a tinge of amusement in her voice but her face is a stone wall. 

 

Start apologizing. 

 

“Ms. Ferguson, I-" 

 

She's standing now with a gloved hand covering my mouth. 

 

How does she move so fluidly and quickly? 

 

“No excuses. I guess you will have to learn the old fashioned way.”

 

She goes to walk away but seems to have an afterthought and turns to me, 

 

“I advise you to actually stand still this time.”

 

She walks into the large supply closet that's just out of my line of sight and I can hear rustling. 

 

I let out a deep breath that I hadn't realized I was holding and start trying to organize my thoughts for the millionth time since I walked into this classroom. 

 

I hear the clicking of her heels leaving the closet. 

 

Just do what she says. This is what you wanted. 

 

Today IS the day. 

 

“Ah, so you CAN follow directions.”

 

She flashes a slight grin as she smacks the ruler she just found into the palm of her free hand. 

 

Why must she make it so hard to stand still? 

 

She sits down in a student desk and motions with the ruler for me to come closer, then to bend over the desk so that she is to my side. 

 

I'm leaning on my elbows and I turn to my left to try and see what she's doing but she meets my gaze. I've never seen this look before, what could she be thinking right now? 

 

She grabs my face roughly and leans in slowly, I think she's going to kiss me- 

My face is jerked to look straight ahead and she growls directly in my ear, 

 

“Look forward and don't make a sound. ”

 

I look forward at a blank wall, most teachers have posters of encouragement and cliché sayings. Not our anatomy teacher, her room is simple, bare, and clean. 

 

Her breath in my ear causes me to shiver and I so badly just want to touch myself. 

 

I feel the end of my skirt being rolled up, over my ass, exposing my drenched center. 

 

“Oh Clarice, you are a naughty girl indeed.” 

 

I want to touch her. I want to kiss her. I don't want to make her angry. I WILL be obedient. 

 

I feel something cold and flat pressed against my thigh, slowly moving down to my calf and back up to my ass. 

 

My face is grabbed again and I feel it trail up my neck and stop - I feel a small prick, it moves again and a sharp edge is pressed against me. 

 

She has a scalpel. 

 

“Whose dirty little schoolgirl are you?” 

 

I feel adrenaline drowning all of my sense. I hear myself speak, 

 

“Yours, Ms. Ferguson.”

 

The scalpel is removed from my neck and a finger wipes from my neck to my cleavage, I think it was blood but I refuse to try to look. 

 

A gloved finger loops through the waistband of my lace panties, I hear a pop and they go limp. Another gloved finger and a pop on the other side and my underwear are being slid off. 

 

Her breath is on my neck again, 

 

“Not a sound.” 

 

Seconds, maybe minutes pass. It feels like forever. 

 

I hear a quick movement and then my ass stings. She struck me with the ruler and I have to will myself to not cry out in shock. 

 

The ruler strikes again, this time much harder than before. I want to moan out but a hand grips my throat as I receive two more swats from the ruler. 

 

I am fighting the urge to rub myself against the table; I have never been so turned on in my life and forcing myself to remain stationary is torture. 

 

My body is tensed, waiting for the next strike but a still gloved hand is rubbing my ass instead, getting so deliciously close to my heated center. 

 

I involuntarily wiggle my ass into her hand. 

 

Dammit. 

 

The hand let's go of my backside and grabs me by my hair and forces me to look a very angry Joan Ferguson in the eye. 

 

“If you cannot follow orders then you will be made to leave my classroom, immediately. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Ms. Ferguson.”

 

Our noses are almost touching. 

 

“I know you stare at me all during your class period. I know you never needed help with your homework. I've known about this little crush of yours all year. All of that considered, I would think you would be more willing to follow my simple instructions.”

 

I don't know if I'm supposed to answer so I give her the most apologetic look I can muster. 

 

My head is forced to look forward again and I feel the sting of and open-handed slap to my ass - I really hope there's a handprint - and I struggle to not whimper. 

 

Juices are seeping freely out of me and running down my leg. 

 

God woman, I can't take any more of this. 

 

A finger runs up my leg, smearing juices everywhere. 

 

“You are so delightfully naughty, Clarice. Tell me, would my dirty schoolgirl want to feel me inside her?”

 

I try to respond as fast as humanly possible, but she's faster and my mouth is covered once more with a gloved hand. 

 

“Oh nevermind, of course you do.”

 

Without any more of a warning two fingers penetrate me all the way until her other fingers brush my clit; the shock causes me to bite down on the hand still covering my mouth, hard. 

 

This seemed to be a signal to fuck me as hard as possible.

 

My legs are vibrating, I already want to cum. 

 

She's panting hard into my ear. My walls are tightening around her fingers. She adds a third. 

 

In between pants she growls in my ear, 

“Cum for me, don't make me wait.”

 

I'm moaning uncontrollably into her one hand hand while the other is mercilessly stretching and fucking me. 

 

“You're just a dirty whore.”

 

My back arches and I scream into her hand. 

 

I fall limp against the desk and I hear her removing her gloves. 

 

A hand slightly strokes my hair as she gets up and walks to her desk. 

 

After a moment I lift myself onto my feet just in time to see her putting my underwear into a baggie with her gloves, now into her desk. 

 

Not getting those back I suppose. 

 

On wobbly legs I start trying to roll my skirt back down and walk over to her. 

 

What do I do now? 

 

I reach her and she tilts my head up with her now visibly bruised hand. 

 

I can't believe I bit her so hard. Ouch. 

 

Leaning forward and expecting to be kissed, I'm shocked when she bites my bottom lip. 

 

I can taste blood but I moan through the pain. 

 

She seems pleased by this response and lets go. 

 

Once more whispering in my ear, 

 

“Do not bite without permission.”

 

“Yes, Ms. Ferguson,” I whisper back. 

 

_ Ding… Ding… Ding…  _

 

Second period is over. 

 

I start flattening my hair and smoothing out my clothes. 

 

She looks as if the last hour hadn't happened whereas I could be mistaken for a car wreck victim. I can see the ruler sticking out of her lab coat pocket and for a second, I consider taking it. 

 

No Clarice, you do as you're told. 

  
Today has been the day. 


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sitting in a chair next to all of my classmates. Today I'm wearing a red gown, blue and gold cords, a gold sash, and a red cap with a little tassel hanging from it. 

 

I'm waiting for my name to be called. 

 

I can see her across the room. She looks unamused and statuesque in her grey pant suit. She's sitting with the other teachers who had been chosen to give out diplomas. 

 

“Clarice Danielle Winters” sounds out through the gymnasium. 

 

I stand and people start clapping, family members and friends are shouting my name. They are pushed to the back of my mind because she's strutting up to the podium to hand me my diploma. 

 

We shake hands and a small piece of paper is slipped into my palm. 

  
I look up to see her smirk, a grin spreads across my face, I take my diploma from her and our picture is taken. 


End file.
